The Sheriff of Drywood
by Ash-ash-ash
Summary: AU Western. Dean Winchester is the sheriff of Drywood. There are some troubles and Dean and Castiel go to fetch the judge. Warnings for mildish dub!con, porn, a bit of slapping about and death of the bad guys. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Howdy partners! :P**

**I spent Sunday afternoon watching 'Gunfight at the O.K. Corral' giving me the urge to write another western and slowly a plot formed in my head, then turning into this. **

**Warnings again for mild dub!con, porn and silly placenames. Also, I have fixed typos and spelling to the best of my ability. If I spot any tomorrow I will correct them.**

**Again, I have to give you a soundtrack. If you go to youtube and search for the title of the movie and Frankie Laine you can find the opening credits with that great song. I hope you enjoy this fic. It grew a little larger than I intended but isn't that always the case?**

**PS. Burt Lancaster was very handsome. :)**

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><p>It was a Thursday afternoon, and Dean Winchester, sheriff of Drywood, was taking a round of the outskirts of town. He wanted to make sure nothing was going on without his knowing. The Bunty brothers were in the area and the town had had trouble with them a year previously. As he came to the clearing north of town he spottet two figures standing under a tree. He rode closer and saw it was Castiel James, the barber's son, and Beatrice Barker, the blacksmith's daughter. They were in a close embrace and kissing. Dean looked at them for a moment. For some reason it bothered him to see. He shook the feeling and rode closer. As the kids heard him come they quickly parted. When Beatrice saw who it was, her cheeks went red and even Castiel looked a little embarrassed but he never took his eyes from Dean's.<p>

"What are you kids doing out here? There are bandits in the area." He sounded angrier than he meant to.

Beatrice gasped and looked at Castiel to take her back to town.

"We just wanted some privacy," Castiel said, sounding too self-assured for Dean's taste.

"Go back to town and stay there. It's not safe out here," Dean said, ignoring Castiel's stare. He watched as Castiel mounted his horse and pulled Beatrice up behind him. He kept watching them as they rode off in the direction of town. That James kid had no sense whatsoever, he thought.

He finished his round without incident and arrived back in town just as the sun was setting. He went into his office and poured himself a cup of coffee. He hadn't failed to notice Castiel staring at him as he rode past the barber's. The kid got under his skin, much as he hated to admit it. Dean had been sheriff of Drywood for only three days when he had had to put Castiel in a prison cell. He had been caught stealing appels fom the grocer's and Dean had hauled him off and put him in a prison cell to teach him a lesson. He knew Castiel's father wasn't home but would be back the same afternoon, so he decided to teach the kid what it would be like if he chose a life of crime. Nip it in the bud, was his philosophy. Castiel had only been ten years old and even though Dean had expected him to maybe cry, he had stayed quiet and just looked at Dean with a look in his eyes that said "What are you going to do now?" It had annoyed Dean. Really annoyed him. To the point that he had to go and sit on the bench outside until he saw Martin James come down the street in his buggy. Dean had stopped him and told him what had happened and Martin had been furious. He had a business to run and it didn't look good if his son got a reputation as a criminal. Dean managed to calm him down; he didn't want Castiel to get a beating when he got home, and he convinced Martin that spending four hours in a cell was enough punishment. Only when Dean went to unlock the cell and Castiel saw his father did his eyes change and he looked a little scared. Dean had put his hand on the young boy's shoulder and had felt him tremble a little. Trying to comfort him, he had said that it had been sorted with his father and that Dean didn't expect to see him here again and Castiel had nodded and left in silence.

Two weeks later, as Dean was walking down the street to check on widow Carter, who was sure someone had been lurking about her house during the night, he had been called over by the grocer, Frank Gordon. He had seen that James kid provling around outside his shop and he was sure he was up to no good. Dean had given him a tired smile and went to look for Castiel. He had found him behind the shop and had asked him what he was doing there. Castiel had looked at him with wide innocent eyes and said he wasn't doing anything. He had seen a kitten and he wanted to bring it home and give it something to eat.

"Then you _are _doing something," Dean had said, earning him another look from Castiel. Didn't that kid ever smile, Dean thought. "I hope the kitten is all you're taking with you," Dean had said.

Castiel had just nodded and hadn't taken his eyes off Dean, who had felt a little unsure if he should stay and actually look to see if there was a cat around. He had decided to give Castiel the benefit of the doubt and had gone off for widow Carter's. He had spent about 20 minutes looking around outside her house and trying to calm her down. He couldn't see anything out of order and nothing had been stolen. It had been a bit windy, so he told her that must have been it. She still seemed a little unnerved so Dean had told her he would come and check on her around ten that evening. She had settled for that and gone back to her sewing. Widow Carter was known in town for her masterfully crafted quilts. Dean himself was later to receive one of them as thanks for always being so helpful to her, and it kept him warm and cosy on cold nights.

The next time he had a run in with Castiel was two years later. This time he had come across a group of five boys on their way home from school. They had disagreed on something and had decided to settle it with a fight behind the lumber yard. Castiel and his friend Simon had been outnumbered but they had still managed to give one of the other boys a split lip. Another would get a black eye in the morning and the third one had escaped with only a few bruises. Castiel had been punched in the face, giving him a bloody nose, and pushed to the ground. Simon had been kiched in the ribs and he was limping a little as Castiel walked him home. Dean had had his deputy, Thomas Ward, with him and that had been his luck because the boys had been fiesty as hell. He had told them to stay clear of each other for the next few days and if he ever saw them do this again he would have to speak to their parents.

Castiel had wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve and looked at him in silence. Dean wasn't sure he had gotten the message, so he had grabbed hold of his shoulder, making him start. When Dean had asked if he understood, he had just nodded and dragged Simon off.

Dean had walked back to the sheriff's office with Thomas, wondering if Castiel was all there in the head. He had asked Thomas about him and was told that his mother had died when he was five and that his older brother had left a short while later. He had been ten years older than Castiel so he could take care of himself. The kids out here grew up fast. Now Dean understood him better; he had lost his own mother when he was just a boy.

Life in town went on again and Dean only saw Castiel sporadically. There were a few skirmishes between townsfolk and an attempted bank robbery where Dean had been shot in the arm, and then there was the new school teacher, Miss Wander, who became very popular with the bachelors. Dean himself had at one point wondered if he should give it a try but he didn't have much patience with women. He never went to the prostitutes in the salloon; he didn't think it fitting for the law to be seen in compromising positions, or imagined in compromising positions. He had the full respect of the people in town and wasn't about to put that in danger. Any needs he had he took care of himself.

Oh yeah, except for that time in Fulton. He had been home to check on his old father, a journey that took three days each way, and when he had come to Fulton he had figured himself far enough away from Drywood that he had been with a prostitute. She was fairly new in the game, that was really the reason Dean had gone with her. The prostitutes you usually saw weren't too appetizing, ragged as they were from the hard life. He had taken her hard and quick, while she was on her back but it hadn't been good enough for him. He had managed to get her on her hands and knees and then he had finished while his body was shaking from the long wanted sensation of being inside another person. He had felt a little ashamed the next morning but had pushed the feeling aside. Nobody would ever know.

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><p>When Castiel was 15 he left school to work for his father. It was his father's wish that he carried on the barber shop. Castiel himself had never uttered other wishes. Dean went to the barber shop himself on occasion and he felt very much under Castiel's scrutiny when he was there. Castiel wasn't allowed to shave people yet, he had to learn first, and anyway, a 15 year old kid shaving grown men was a funny thought. Dean couldn't keep a smile from his face the first time he had been there after Castiel had begun working there. Castiel himself didn't even have a stubble yet and Dean wasn't eager to let him near him with a shaving knife. Castiel had to watch and learn and he certainly watched when Dean was there. He still didn't talk much and Dean couldn't help asking if a good barber wasn't someone who could chat with his customers. Castiel just looked at him and left his father to answer. He was sure Castiel would get over his shyness. When Dean left, putting his hat on with a fluent motion, he gave Castiel a wide smile. He had just been poking fun, but he was afraid Castiel had taken it to heart. Castiel's eyes finally changed a little and he managed to find the tiniest of smiles.<p>

A couple of months later, Martin the barber was seen around town with little nicks and cuts on his face. To everyone's amusement he had made himself giunie pig for Castiel and he was a testament of Castiel's progress. It wasn't until his face looked normal again that the customers gave permission for Castiel to shave them. Dean was a little unnerved when it was his turn to be asked the dreaded question: "Will you let Castiel take care of you?"

"Erm, sure," Dean said. But he didn't feel sure. He sat tentatively down in the chair. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days because he had been helping with a cattle drive through the area and now he wanted a professional shave and a bit of pampering. He had been sweaty and dirty and had just been for a bath at the hotel.

Castiel seemed as nervous as him as he removed the hot towel from his face and soaped up Dean's face. Up close, he smelled a little of aftershave, a floral scent Dean couldn't pinpoint. Then he took the shaving knife and as he was going to open it to sharpen it, it slipped from his hands and fell into Dean's lap. Dean jumped in his seat because he didn't know it was still closed. Castiel mumbled an apology and reached down to pick it up. As he did his hand came close to Dean's groin and brushed against his thigh. Dean made a surprised sound and Castiel apologized again, going red in the cheeks, and explained the knife wasn't open. Dean took a deep breath and relaxed. Castiel went about his business and once he got started he wasn't actually bad. He had soft hands and was very careful not to cut Dean. When he had washed the remaining soap off Dean's face, he asked if he wanted aftershave. Dean thought for a moment; it wasn't really his thing. But then he agreed. He asked for the same one that Castiel was wearing and for the first time Castiel smiled a little. He rubbed a little on Dean's face and for a moment it felt to Dean like he enjoyed caressing his face. It burned a little and he made a face.

"Sorry," Castiel said, removing his hands by stroking them down Dean's cheeks and off him. It left Dean feeling a little strange and he felt the ghostly touch of Castiel against his thigh. He payed and went back to the hotel to get something to eat. Just as he was tucking into some long wanted pie, he was approached by the mayor, Julius Baker, who had heard he was back. He told Dean about the Bunty brothers who had been rumoured to be in the area. They had robbed banks in every town they came through and if they were on their way to Drywood they knew what they could expect and had to be ready for it. Dean was worried and when he was done eating he and the mayor went to the sheriff's office to ask Thomas if he had heard anything. He had heard the same rumours as the mayor and was waiting for a moment to talk to Dean about it. Thomas had spoken to a traveller the day before who said the Bunty brothers were in the area and they had robbed banks in both Fallon and Wheatstalk. The bank of Drywood would most likely be on their list.

Dean called in all the men who he knew could use a gun and briefed them about what was going on. A few of them were made temporary deputies and they arranged groups who would patrol on a rotary system. They also placed extra guards by the bank.

In the evening, after all the shops were closed, Dean was in his office trying to plan ahead for plan B and C and even D in case they would need it. The door was opened and Castiel's head peeked through the gap. Dean was surprised to see him.

"Castiel, what can I do for you?"

"I want to sign up. For helping. With the Bunty brothers." That was the most words Dean had heard him say since the cat incident.

"You're too young," he said, simply.

"I'm fifteen."

"It's out of the question." Dean wasn't in the mood to argue about this.

"I can shoot."

Dean looked at him, dubiously.

"Really?" he said. "Do you even own a gun?"

"No, but you can lend me one."

Dean laughed loudly. "No. Now go home before your father starts to wonder where you are."

He could tell by the look on Castiel's face that he was hurt, but he also looked defiant. Without saying anything else, he turned around and left.

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><p>They only had to wait two days, then the five Bunty brothers came to Drywood. They were surprised to find the town so prepared and they escaped by shooting their way out, leaving behind one dead brother and an injured sheriff. Dean was shot in the left side and was unconscious for three weeks. Nobody knew if he would survive. He had strange dreams while he was on his sick bed. People took turns sitting with him, even Castiel, who kept watch one night two weeks after the shooting. During that night, Dean had a dream about the prostite from Fulton. It was very vivid; he could practically feel her warm hand on his length and smell her. She smelled like Castiel. The feeling of a building orgasm went through the haze and he felt the pull in his groin as he thrust upwards from the mattress. He came with a groan and spilled himself into thin air. About a week later he woke up but it would take another two weeks before he was back in his office. The whole town was glad he had made it, he was the best sheriff they had had in years.<p>

The first time Dean went to the barber's after he was shot, Castiel was alone in the shop. When he saw Dean, he looked away unable to meet his gaze. It was strange, because he always looked Dean straight in the eye. Dean sat in the chair and asked for a quick shave, nothing fancy. Castiel soaped him up and started shaving him. His hands were trembling slightly but he managed to shave Dean without nicking him. Puzzled by his behaviour, Dean asked him if he was still angry he hadn't been allowed to fight the brothers. Castiel looked at him quickly and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. No, he said, he wasn't angry. Dean nodded and left. That kid was surely strange. After that, Castiel had gone back to blatantly staring Dean down whenever they met.

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><p>About a year later, there were new rumours about the Bunty brothers and that was why Dean was making his rounds and had come across Castiel and Beatrice. Dean had been wondering if Castiel should be allowed to join the fight this time. He had grown taller and put on a bit of weight, though he was still on the wiry side. He was almost 17 now. But since he was so thoughtless as to bring a girl out here knowing there were bandits, he didn't seem to have enough sense for it.<p>

The door to the sheriff's office opened and Castiel came in. He was walking in, sure of himself, not like the year before where he had only dared to pop his head through the crack. Dean sighed. He knew why he was there.

"I want to join the fight this time," he said and looked at Dean.

Dean looked back, contemplating. "It was stupid bringing that girl so far outside of town," he said.

Castiel swallowed, his eyes flickering with guilt for a second. Dean stood up and went to get another cup of coffee. He liftet the coffee pot towards Castiel and he nodded. Dean poured him a cup as well and handed it to him. Then he went and sat down behind his desk.

"So can I?" Castiel asked when Dean didn't say anything.

Dean thought for a while. He really didn't want Castiel there and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because he had known him since he was a child and didn't want anything to happen to him. But he had to accept that he was getting older.

"If your father says it's ok," Dean finally said.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "He'll never say yes," he said.

"Well, then I guess you won't be there," Dean said.

Castiel turned his back to him and finished his coffee, fidgeting with the wanted posters. "Do you remember anything from the time you were shot. I mean from when you were unconscious," he suddenly asked.

Dean looked at him in surprise. "No, I was unconscious," he said.

Castiel nodded and turned around again. He put his cup on the table and said goodnight, leaving without looking Dean in the eye.

Again, Dean thought how strange he was. Maybe it was a good thing he wouldn't be there for the fight. Dean wouldn't have time to worry about him too.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost a week the town had to wait before the Bunty brothers showed up. They were hell bent on revenge from last time and it came to a shoot out where they barricaded themselves inside the bank keeping the banker, Shawn Goodman, hostage. Some of the streets in town had been barricaded, keeping the brothers from escaping, and only the towns folk knew what route to take to make it out. After riding around in the streets, with as much money as they could carry, trying to find a way out, the brothers had to surrender. One had been shot dead, another injured, and a third knocked unconscious when he fell from his horse. They were hauled to the prison and locked up. Dean needed to get the judge to town for a trial. Sending a letter would take too long, so he decided to get him himself. He left Thomas in charge along with the temporary deputies, all men he knew would be able to control the situation. He packed the most necessary; the trip would take five days and even longer to get back, because the judge favoured a buggy instead of riding. Probably worried about his fancy clothes, Dean thought, as he mounted his horse. With a 'good luck' ringing after him, he left Thomas behind and headed for Harrow.

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><p>He had been riding about twenty minutes when he became certain he was being followed. He rode his horse in among some trees and found a vantage point where he could hide. As the other person rode by, Dean jumped on him, knocking him from the horse. He was about to punch him when he saw it was Castiel.<p>

"What!" he exclaimed with surprise. "Castiel! What the hell are you doing here?"

A bit out of breath from the hard landing on the ground, Castiel said: "I wanted to go with you. Just in case you would need help."

Dean huffed out a laugh and stared at him. "If I'll need help I'm sure you're not the person who can give it to me."

He regretted his harsh words immediately, as he saw the hurt in Castiel's eyes. Nobody ever took him to be a 'real' man. Someone who could defend himself and shoot a gun. Dean sighed and helped him up. "Look, I just mean that this is a bit out of your comfort zone," he said, trying to smooth things out.

Castiel dusted himself off and Dean saw the gun at his right side.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, pointing to the gun.

"I bought it," Castiel said simply.

"You bought it?"

Castiel looked at him. "I told you, I know how to shoot."

Dean wasn't sure of that. "Yeah, well, thanks for the concern but I think you should go back to town."

"No."

Dean looked at him with surprise. "No?"

"No. I'm coming with you. If you leave without me I'll follow you." He looked at Dean calmly, placing his black hat on his head. As he stood there, defiant, with a gun at his hip and dust on his face he looked quite...well, attractive, Dean thought. Almost a man. He sighed. "Alright," he said. "But don't fall behind and don't wander off. And don't shoot that thing." He gestured to the gun.

Castiel smiled at him. A real smile; the first time Dean had seen that. He should really do that more often. They mounted their horses and rode off. They made good progress that day and could get a well-deserved rest that night. They lit a fire and made coffee. Dean had brought some food and they ate in silence, tired from the ride. Dean took a moment to examine Castiel's face. They had never spent this much time together and Dean really didn't know him that well. But he seemed to know when to keep quiet and he didn't complain; just followed Dean where he led them. They lay down by the fire to sleep and were awoken by a bird singing loudly the next morning. Dean stretched his aching limbs. He was getting older, he could feel it. He was 35 now and in his younger days he had been used to spending a day in the saddle. But now he had a job, he slept in the same bed every night. After a quick cup of coffee and a slice of bread they rode off and stopped around seven in the evening to make camp for the night. They sat by the fire and talked as it had gotten dark. Castiel asked a lot of questions about Dean and his life before he had moved to Drywood.

Then he said: "I don't really care for her, you know."

Dean didn't know. He had no clue what Castiel was talking about. "About who?"

"Beatrice. I only kissed her because I wanted to practice."

Dean thought for a moment. He could understand that. "Does she know that?"

"No. But I haven't promised her anything. I never promise them anything."

Dean's eyebrows went up. "What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"The girls. I never promise them anything."

Dean opened his mouth but it took a while for words to come out. "Are you telling me you're kissing all the girls just because you want to 'practice'?"

"Not all the girls," Castiel said, sounding indignant.

"But a lot of them?"

"Yes?" Castiel suddenly sounded unsure.

Dean let out a huff of air. "Well, I hope for your sake they don't find out about each other."

Castiel gave him a quick look.

"So, are you practicing for anyone in particular?" Dean asked. He though it quite funny. He hadn't expected Castiel, the quiet son of the barber, to be such a ladies' man.

Castiel cleared his throat and began fidgeting with his sleeve. "There is someone."

"Huh," Dean said. He had kind of figured.

Castiel cleared his throat again. "Do you remember the time you were unconscious and we all kept watch by your bedside?"

Dean smiled. "No, as I told you, I don't remember because I was unconscious."

"Do you remember Amber?"

Dean snapped his head around looking at him. Amber was the prostitute from Fulton. How could Castiel know about her?

"What about Amber?" he asked, his mouth going dry.

"You were saying her name the night I kept watch."

"Yes?" Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

"Who is she? A girlfriend?"

Now it was Dean's turn to clear his throat. "Uh, no, just a girl I knew. Why are you asking about her?"

"Because you were saying her name." Dean sensed there was more to it. He had had a dream about her. A very vivid dream. If Castiel had been there that night and Dean had had a sex dream while saying her name, God knows what Castiel was thinking.

"Cas, did I do anything that night? Anything that you might have found...offensive?"

"My Mom used to call me Cas," he said.

"Oh, sorry."

After a while, Castiel continued: "_I_ did something that night. Something I've regretted many times since."

Dean waited for him to continue.

"You didn't know what was going on and I was there alone the whole night." The words seemed difficult for him to find.

"You were naked under the sheet and as you moved it exposed your skin and...I wanted to touch you." His voice went weaker as he spoke.

Dean went cold all over. "And?" he asked, dredding what would come next.

"You have always been kind to me. Ever since I was a boy. And I liked you instantly. I admired you. You were our sheriff, the one who looked after us." He was speaking fast, almost urgently.

"Castiel, tell me what happened." His head was beginning to pound and he sounded angry.

"I...I touched you. Your..." he made a small gesture to his own crotch. "You seemed to like it. And then I just...I touched you." He was staring intently on the ground.

Dean felt the heat in his cheeks and the cold running down his back as he realized what Castiel was saying. He clenched his fists. Then he got up and grabbed Castiel by the shirt, slapping his cheek with the back of his hand. Castiel whimpered and cowered on the ground. Dean was breathing heavily. He felt violated. He had been unconscious, mortally wounded while protecting the town and this ...boy had taken advantage of him. He turned around and walked off. He had to get out of there before he beat Castiel to a pulp. In his dazed anger he vaguely heard Castiel shout after him: "I only did it because I like you."

Dean walked around for a while until his breath had steadied and his head was clear again. He was still shaking a little and he was mad as hell. He steadied himself against a tree. He didn't know how he could go back and face Castiel. They still had three days together before they got to Harrow. He sat down, leaning against the tree trunk and rubbing his hands against his face. Castiel had justified his actions with the fact that he liked Dean. Dean realized that he was the person Castiel was kissing all those girls for. He wanted to learn to kiss because he wanted to kiss Dean. Even after what he had done and admittet to regretting, he still thought he and Dean would kiss. He sighed. He had to go back to camp. When he got there, Castiel looked at him nervously, flinching a little. Dean went and rolled out his blanket and lay down. With his back to Castiel he said: "We'll never talk about this again and you won't tell a single soul. If you do you'll regret it."

Castiel didn't say anything but Dean could hear him shuffle as he lay down to go to sleep.

The next morning, Castiel had a red mark on his cheek and he never made eye contact with Dean. They packed up and rode off and Dean had the whole day to think about what had happened. He now knew the reason Castiel had wanted to come with him. He had hoped to get closer to him, maybe even closer than was healthy. Dean couldn't understand him. He had never seen Castiel show an interest in the other boys and he had never heard any rumours about him. He had practically told Dean he was in love with him. Wanted to practice kissing to make it good for Dean. He softened a little. Maybe he was just a curious boy. And Dean had been there, naked and not able to say no. And it had been nice; Dean had to admit. He cursed at himself. These thoughts were wrong. Castiel hadn't said anything to him since the night before. They made camp by a lake and lit a fire. They ate in silence and Dean was still a little angry. Castiel went to the lake to wash the dishes and when he got back he went to put everything away for the night. It just so happened that Dean was taking his blanket out and as Castiel was putting the cups and plates down, he couldn't help touching Dean's hand, a finger rubbing against it. It could have been completely innocent but it was deliberate. This was just like Castiel. The way he always stared at Dean, refusing to turn his gaze away. Now, after his admissions the night before, he was back to see how far he could go.

Dean was going to show him. He reacted on instinct; if his brain had been in it he wouldn't have done it. He grabbed Castiel and showed him on the ground, a hand reaching around to undo his jeans, yanking them down over his hips. He could hear the surprised and slightly frighetened gasp Castiel made, but he didn't do anything else, and Dean saw that as acceptance. He unbuttoned his own jeans and stroked himself hard in a few seconds, then he spat on his hand and rubbed it over his cock. He pressed into Castiel, ignoring the gasps of apparent pain. He started thrusting, feeling how tight the youth was around him. Castiel was completely still, letting Dean do what he wanted. When Dean was getting close, he reached around and under Castiel and started to stroke him. Castiel began to make gasping noises and Dean gave a few last hard thrusts and finished. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, then he took hold of Castiel's cock again and rasped into his ear: "Go."

Castiel started fucking himself in Dean's hand and it only took a few thrusts before he was beginnning to shake. Even so, Dean couldn't take it anymore and let go of him, standing up and turning his back. As he was buttoning up his jeans he heard the strangled sound of Castiel's orgasm, as he finished himself.

They went to sleep without talking and the next morning, Dean took a bath in the lake. He tried to forget what had happened the night before. He felt guilty. He had been furious at Castiel because of what he had done, but he wasn't any better himself. He knew Castiel could have said no, but Dean felt he wouldn't have, no matter what. As he emerged from the water, all wet and cooled down, he spottet Castiel sitting under a tree near the bank. He was staring at Dean as he usually was, his eyes travelling over his body, resting for a moment on his cock. Dean took no notice of him and got dressed. Then they rode on and only stopped for lunch a few hours later.

After they had eaten, Dean found a place in the shade under a big pine tree. There was some dry grass and it was the perfect place for a midday snooze. Dean sat down, leaned back and quickly fell asleep. He was awoken by something touching his shirt where it went into his jeans. He jerked awake and saw Castiel sitting to the left of him, his hands fidgeting with the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed Castiel's wrists in a vice like grip and gave him a hard look, but just got Castiel's blank stare back. They stayed like that for several seconds, then Castiel started to move his hands again and Dean let him go. Castiel quickly undid Dean's jeans and found his cock half hard already.

Dean whimpered at the touch of Castiel's wet and soft tongue and his head went back, his eyes squeezing shut with pleasure. Castiel sucked him off, not in any apparent hurry. He wasn't quick, but not slow either. It was the perfect speed for Dean to have time to really enjoy it, feeling the way the tip of his tongue narrowed as he licked at the slit, and the way it was warm and soft as he pressed it flat against Dean's cock. Dean had been worried if Castiel would tell people about the night before. Castiel could claim that he hadn't dared to refuse Dean because he was a sheriff. But this was so obviously voluntary and Dean relaxed and enjoyed it. It was clear that Castiel hadn't done this before but it was still good and Dean jerked up into his mouth as he came, a cry held back in his throat. For some reason he felt it inappropriate to exhibit how good it was.

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><p>They kept moving, making stiff, awkward conversation only when needed, and it wasn't until the next night that Castiel crept up behind Dean as they lay, trying to get some sleep. He ran a hand down Dean's back, then across his side and on to his stomach. There it rested until he knew he wouldn't get rejected and he slowly moved it down on Dean's crotch, rubbing gently. Dean sighed deeply and moved his legs a little more apart so Castiel had better access. Castiel squeezed a little and Dean moaned, in turn making Castiel moan and try to reach around so he could kiss Dean. Dean willingly rolled onto his back and they kissed for the first time. It was soft and careful at first, then deep and wanting and Castiel pressed himself hard against Dean. He started to unbutton Dean's jeans and soon had his hard cock in his hand, pumping up and down. After a while he sat up and undid his own jeans, pulling them down to his knees. Dean sat behind him and used as musch spit as he could in an attempt to make it a little easier on Castiel. When he was fully inside him, he started to thrust carefully and soon their cries of pleasure rang out through the cold, clear night. Afterwards, Dean held Castiel close to him as he slept comfortably. Dean still couldn't shake the feeling he was in the wrong, even though Castiel was offering himself willingly.<p>

The next day, they reached Harrow and Dean went to find the judge. Luckily he could come with them immediately. He was happy the Bunty brothers had been captured and the fact that two of them were now dead made him happier still. He got his men together and they all made their way back to Drywood. Dean and Castiel couldn't touch each other the whole time and Dean was secretly happy. It had been fantastic but he felt he was taking advantage of Castiel. He was a boy who looked up to the town sheriff because he had been nice to him when he was a kid and who fought bandits to keep the town safe. It was only natural that Castiel would look up to him. Dean himself had become sheriff because he had admired the sheriff in his home town. But still, every time their fingers brushed against each other when they packed up their gear Dean felt a tingle in his stomach and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to let go of Castiel that easily.

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><p>They had been back for almost a week, the judge had been installed at the hotel while during the trial and Dean had been busy and hadn't seen Castiel at all. This evening, he had just finished a simple supper and was clearing the table when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Castiel outside. He felt his stomach flip with happiness and stepped aside to let him in, knowing he was doing something wrong. Now that they were back, they couldn't see each other. What would the town think about Castiel knocking on the sheriff's door every other night?<p>

As soon as Dean had closed the door he was pressed against it, Castiel's whole body pressing him into the wood. Dean was ready in that instance. He could go along with one last time, but that was it. Castiel had already undone Dean's jeans and was now starting on his own. Dean sighed to himself. He would miss his initiative. He got Castiel over to the table and bent him over. Then he saw the lard he had used on his bread was still on the table. He scraped a bit off with his fingers and spread it over his cock. Then he pressed into Castiel, who was flat against the table, waiting. Instead of the pained strangled sounds Castiel had made at the burn as Dean opened him up, he now moaned with surprised pleasure as Dean slid easily inside him. He kept on moaning and it made Dean feel less of a bastard.

He started thrusting, holding on to Castiel's hips, as Castiel began stroking himself. The lard made it easy for him to get a good rhythm going and he turned his head up and closed his eyes, feeling every clench around him while he listened to Castiel. Then there was a wet sound against the floor boards as Castiel came, his body shaking under Dean, and Dean smiled to himself. He wasn't anywhere near finished but he remembered what it was like at that age, not being able to hold it for very long. He kept going and soon Castiel was whimpering at the touch of his sensitive insides. Dean thrust harder, revelling in the sounds Castiel made. He came with a deep groan and gasped, as his body contracted and he pulled Castiel hard against him, making the youth whimper.

Dean pulled out of him and leaned over to steady himself against the table as he calmed down. Then he stood them both up and turned Castiel around to face him. He buttoned up his jeans for him saying: "Maybe you shouldn't touch yourself so soon next time." He had meant the next time Castiel had sex with someone else, not the next time _they_ had sex. But Castiel misunderstood and he clung to Dean's shoulders and kissed him, desperately. Dean put his arms around his waist and decided he would move to another town. Sheriffs were needed everywhere, as were barbers. Maybe he could pass Castiel off as his brother, that way they could live together. He deepened the kiss and sighed. Castiel moaned against him and dragged him off towards the bedroom. Dean just had time to grab the lard from the table.

-END-

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><p><strong>Yeehaw! That was fun to write. :P<strong>


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